The Chosen Child of Peace
by Lorrese
Summary: Whilst the surivival of Gondor is at stake, the son of a king is abandoned and alone, mourning the brutlal loss of his closest compainion, his twin brother. Rated k for saftey as i do not wish for my account to be blocked
1. Default Chapter

The Chosen Child of Peace (1/?)

Rated PG13-R for extended scenes of peril, extreme physical and mental tourture and memories/references to sexual tourtre.

Whilst the surivival of Gondor is at stake, the son of a king is abandoned and alone, mourning the brutlal loss of his closest compainion, his twin brother. Little did he know that horror awaits him back in Gondor, as Lothriel and the King of Rohans' eldest son has been murdered.

Unbeta'd

Huge apology for deleating my other stories. Anyhows, hope you like this one. Any seemingly slack language is used to reflect the style of language spoken in the slums. The way I created Alumon/Elfwine is mine. The character Elfwine himself is tolkiens. No infringment of copywright intended.

There was a trotting of hooves to be heard all down the street, trumpets and voices heralding the kings' arrival. The company halted and began to dismount outside of the tavern stabling.

"Here kid, I just brought these," the thin girl held up the bag of warm rolls, "D'ya want some,"

The little boy looked up, his deep, sea blue eyes looking longingly at the bag, wondering if the offer was really true, whether he, in a few seconds, would truly be eating again. He decided it wasn't a real offer that she would run off cruelly, like so many before. Silently, he nodded his affirmative, it was worth a try.

"You sure, you had to think about that one, didn't cha"

The boy pulled the remnants of his tunic round his bony form, trying to gather some warmth, and wondering how to say what he wanted to say. But he didn't have to; the girl had simply opened up the bag and offered him a roll. Smiling his thanks, he took it, and for the first time in weeks bit, chewed and swallowed.

" 'ent cho the silent one," the girl remarked.

The boy smiled, turned around and pointed to the company, revealing a bruised and sore back, with marks that looked suspiciously like whip lashes completely covering it.

"What happened to you?" a voice asked from behind him. The boy swivelled around at lightning speed. The face of a fair, Numenorian man appeared in his face. He cowered, remembering it was a man like this that had killed his friend, and tortured him. A voice spoke from the side.

"Hands off the Kid mister, ya' want anyone, you take me!"

"Shhhh, I am not trying to take advantage of you, I was merely worried about your welfare," the man found himself talking, explaining himself to a girl, "It's my duty as the king of Gondor, apart from the fact I wished to help."

"An adult, worried about us, as if. Betcha dunno wot it's like to live like us. Starving belly n thirst. Cold to the bloody bone, Betcha fine in your cosy castle, in your cosy city, far away down the bloody south, not a care in the world about us up' ere. Forgotten, wandering homeless kids like me. Ill tell ya' wot I fink of you sir, I think you're a dirty rotten backstabber, you sed you'd rebuild this world, look around and see what a bloody poor job you made of it."

"Before today, when was the last time you ate?" the king asked trying to change the subject. Both the boy and the girl looked dangerously thin.

"Me, free days, him" she gestured to the boy, "Probably about two weeks."

"Two weeks, Eru! Just let me help you, please."

"You won't 'elp us, u'll jest make us work from sunrise to sunset for nuffing, I don't want to be Gondor's Bloody slave. I 'ad inuf of slavery wen I was a bloody slave, same with the kid ere. Same with all us bloody kids back down the shelter.

"You were a slave, but not anymore, let go of the past, and let me help you, please. You are a citizen of Arnor; let me prove to you I care. Take me to your shelter and let me help you."

"Alright come to our bloody shelter, but don't cha dare bring anyone and make us move," she said

"I won't, just take me there, please, let me help you" the king found himself begging to a slovenly girl from the slums.

The girl shot him a glare, but led the king away. A blonde elf and a man with mousy brown hair tried to follow, but the king gestured to them to stop. He had to do this alone. Only he could restore the trust he seemed to have lost in the youth of his homeland. Then he wondered about the boy. He seemed so quiet, and he had seen something too deep in his eyes for a child of that age. The boy seemed like a spitting image of Eomer, just in a smaller version. But he ruled that out. Haradrim had taken both the twin sons of Eomer as hostages. This he knew, as he had been with the king over the duration of two weeks when the body of one of them had been sent back, grossly: piece by piece. But then there was the other. Thurin Magor, his secret association of protectors of Gondor, or spies, had intercepted messages that his other child, Elfwine, had either escaped or been freed, it was hard to interpretate which.

The small boy stumbled alone behind the girl weakly and very slowly. He was wheezing, probably ill and frozen to the bone. The boy tripped. The king rushed forward to grab him and pull him back up. He brushed over the boys shoulder and felt a scar. The boy moaned ever so slightly and pulled away.

The girl pulled back the ivy that covered the entrance to the deep hole in the ground, and their in the centre, huddled around the fire, were 6 or so, thin, starving and scarred children.

" 'Ungry fellas? I brought us our king, we can eat 'im," she laughed. The rest of the children laughed too. The king began to look nervous.

"Oh come now _my liege _surely you can recognise a joke when you see one?" one of the children asked sarcastically.

"Yes, well I would say the circumstances here are rather different."

"Different to what?"


	2. The Hunters Moon shines on peace

**The Hunters Moon**

Being Chapter 2 of

The Chosen Child

By Lorissë Fëanorian

"To nothing, to nothing," The king murmured. Suddenly, there was a crashing outside the cave. Immediately, all the children were on their feet. They put out the fire, snatched what few belongings they had, and just as they began to make their way to the back of the cave, suddenly 3 men burst into the cave.

"Apologies my liege, they insisted on attending!" One man laughed. This man had fox fur ginger colour hair, and was the steward to the king. His name was Faramir.

"No matter my lord steward," Aragorn replied, and for a while all was silent. Suddenly a not so distant wolf howl came into their hearing.

"We have to get out," A man stated. He was a fairly tall raven-haired man by the name of Innas spoke.

"Aye, it is not safe," Faramir had switched to Sindrin to enable them to converse without further scaring the already scared children.

"The boy will have to be carried, he looks fit to collapse," Innas stated

The other man looked at the boy quickly, and then drew in a sharp breath

"Can it be Elfwine?" He asked the King

"I am unsure, Arodion, so very unsure." He stated, he then turned to the children,

"It is Unsafe to stay here, we must return to my camp, it is not far from here. Can you walk?"

This question was replied to will 5 weary affirmations, and after some trouble with the girl, another yes. The boy didn't reply, but began to walk slowly behind the other children out of the cave. Faramir walked up behind the boy, who, as Innas had so rightly perceived, was in such a state of pain and shock, he would most likely collapse at any moment. The sweat from the effort it took him just to walk a few steps showed just how ill the poor child was. Suddenly, and without warning, the child's body crumpled. Faramir was, extremely luckily, in such a position to catch the boy. It took him a few moments, but he secured the child in his arms, trying very unsuccessfully to minimise the boys' pain, however this failed, when he cried out

"No, Galeth, No, No more I beg of you, please no, NO."

The last cry of NO was screamed so loud the echoes in the open space took about a minute to die away.

"He'll have to be gagged, another scream like that and whatever's out there will have us for supper," Arodion Stated

"He won't like it," Innas stated

"Neither will he like being eaten by wolves for dinner,"

Arodion defended, whilst ripping a small piece of the poor boys' already wrecked tunic, then he tied it loosely round the boy's mouth. He touched his palm to the boy's sodden hair. The boy was shivering violently and cold sweat now formed on his forehead.

The wolves howls could be heard even closer now, and after a few minutes they sounded extremely close. Suddenly a scream came from behind Faramir as Innas, who had been bringing up the rear was attacked by a warg and its rider. It takes a long time for some evils to truly disappear. Innas spun around, drew his sword and took a swipe at the rider.

The swipe was an unlucky shot, falling short of the rider, but hitting the ward by its jugular vein. The warg died, and Innas, who was now free from 2 threats quickly, killed the warg.

"A scout," he murmured, before yelling, "RUN,"

The Children all ran as fast as they could, which although the terrain was easy, was not much faster than a power walk.

They rounded the last corner and saw the kings company at the end of the road.

The king yelled "Warg Attack!" just as the warg rounded the corner. An arrow shot by the kings ear and imbedded itself in a warg. Its rider fell underneath and was presumably crushed. Another Arrow. And another. Each finding their target in the black creatures bodies'.

Innas Ancir and the king pushed the children to the protected back line of the men, who were now fighting hard up to a line of trees, before running back out to join the fight. Faramir pushed his way through to set down the child before speaking to the others.

"If you can find enough strength, the others will most likely be staying against this line of trees. There are spare quivers of arrows over there, you might save a few minutes and vital time for us if you spot the archers among us and give them a new quiver when theirs are empty. Under no circumstances leave this line of trees. Pull back any injured you can reach. That is all."

He pushed his way to the front, unstringing his bow and pulling an arrow from his quiver, punched the arrow into the neck of a wargless rider, who unceremoniously fell dead to the floor, before steadily, with his well experienced hands put his arrow into his bow, pulled and released. Soon, however, the arrows became of little use in the close fight that ensued, and many began pulling out swords and daggers. Innas reached to the side of his belt for a throwing knife, which he managed to clasp in his stronger right hand to throw at the nearest grey armoured figure. The knife found it's mark, and Innas had allowed the king enough time to spin around and take the nearest warg from the king's list of threats. Arodion had crept around the scene with 10 or so other men to the back of the warg line, and with a shout he ordered the remaining archers.

"Fire!"

After 2 full rounds of arrows had been fired the battle ended. Such a scene of Carnage Faramir had not seen in many a year past. There were screams coming from everywhere. Finally he found it in his gut to speak the orders that everyone so needed to hear.

"Pile the warg and rider carcasses in a pile and burn them. Count and bury the dead with my blessings. They served Gondor well," his voice broke and somehow, the tears that had been long buried in the midst of the deeps of Ithilien all those years ago came streaming suddenly and silently down his face as he surveyed with tearful eyes the wreckage of the surroundings. In his head a voice was screaming.

"Oh Brother where art thou," the voice screamed, "Where art thou?"

"My lord," A voice asked, but the voice had paused at Faramirs' distant look, "My lord, are you sure you were not hurt in the battle?" The inquisitive voice asked. It was Arodion.

"Yes, I thank you kindly for your concern my friend and comrade, I am well, I was just having thoughts about my brother," Faramir replied swiftly

"I quite understand my Lord, your Brother was hardly a person content not to be thought about," He laughed, Arodion, son of the Noble lord Anborn the Fearless, had been Boromirs adjutant', and, he prided himself, next to Theodred and Faramir, as Boromirs Friend. His name, Arodion, translated literally as noble Son. It had been a point of great laughter on many a drunken eve, the name.

"Please, 'odi," Faramir pleaded, using Arodion's nickname, "Please don't call me, "my lord," It is a title that I do not want, as it should never have been mine, it should have been 'Ori, not me," Faramir pleaded, and his emotional state was mirrored in his words. Faramir was tired to the very bone,

"Faramir," Odi said sharply, "Faramir, do not ever let me hear you say that again, I accept you loved your brother, just as I did, but he chose you to stay in Gondor, he chose you as worthy of your title, therefore if he believed you worthy then you are worthy, no too questions about it."

"Thankyou," Faramir whispered

"Look to the sky, Faramir," Ancir ordered, "A full moon, a hunter's moon shines overhead, that is you, you are not the "Adequate jewel," Faramir, but the "Jewel of the Hunt," Gondor's' Hunt, for peacetime, for democracy, for peace it self,"

"You flatter me," Faramir replied, "I do not need your pity or you flattery"

"It would only be Flattery if it was an untruth," Odi replied testily, "As you are well, the King could use your assistance with the boy you carried it," he made to carry on, just as the King screamed for help.

"Help me here, I need fresh water! Bring me Altheas!" The King ordered

The boy was heating up too fast.


	3. Chapter 3

The Chosen Child of Peace- Chapter 3- Pieces of a Puzzle

The King Elessar had stripped the boy down to the waist to help the boy's body to naturally cool off whilst he the many cuts, stripes, burns and abrasions on his body were treated. The king dipped the cloth in the cold water again, and squeezed the water over the boy's back, cleaning the dirt of of the stripes. The person that attacked the boy, had clearly given him enough stripes to send him into deep unconsciousness. Coupled with obvious burns from a white hot poker, and infected cuts on his side, it was hardly surprising he was lying there, fevered, and close to death. He placed the cloth in the water again, rinsing it of the dirt, and squeezing it out, before placing it in the second bowl of water to re-wet it. He picked out pieces of dirt from one of the deeper cuts whilst he was waiting, and then picked out the cloth and gentle rubbed each cut to help wash away the dirt. He repeated the action until the boy's back was clean. He then picked a set of bandages out of the pack and put them in the water to soak. He removed them and began to place them steadily on the boys' back. There was a voice from behind him.

"Aragorn, Elessar, Aragorn," he paused, there was no reply, so he tried again.

"My lord King," he said with greater severity. Aragorn still didn't turn around, but he had gained a response.

"What do you want 'steward', can you not see I am at work?"

"My lords; Elessar, why do you sit here when I know you yourself were injured in the battle?"

"Can you not see Faramir, surely you of all people should realise this. I have failed. This child is injured because of me. How many more out there are like this poor boy. This at least I should do in some sort of recompense for my failed act. Act. Who am I to talk? Experiment. Gods Boromir was right. Gondor needs no king," he finished bitterly

"Aragorn," Faramir began, "You are a good king and a good man, but since your coronation the North Guard was set forth, but not the south, where the slaves are kept, tied up in the negotiations, you could not do anything! This fate is the fault of no body."

"But Faramir," He stopped.

"Yes?"

Thinking of nothing to say, he whispered, "Thankyou"

"Come, my lord and brother, you must be treated to, there is no use for the child in you dying, go, see the healers and let me finish here with the poor boy."

"Thanks once again Mellon Nin. We cannot just go on calling this child "boy" though. Have you asked the others if he had a name?"

"Yes, and he had none, or at least he would not say it. Or so a gathered."

"The let us call him Alumon, for he looks so peaceful," He said.

"Aye, the child of peace he looks lying there."

"Yet his scars betray it; to many scars for one so young. How deep to they go, I wonder?"

"Only time will tell. But come; let me finish bandaging Alumons' back whilst you are seen to, that cut upon your shoulder will fester if it is not treated."

"You are true, once more my friend. How far is it called to our next stop? I ask this because we must also leave the vicinity in great hurry. I myself suggest our next camp to be at Weathertop, for the creatures of Darkness will hunt us at our last known location." The king that was once one of the greatest northern rangers stated.

"Aye, the Darkness seems so close here. We break Camp at first light tomorrow then? Will the Alumon be strong enough?"

"He will have to be. He is in more Danger here and well, than moving and Ill. What of the Other Children?" The King asked, "What do we know of them?"

"I am no healer, but apart from being half-starved they seemed in good health. They have told me of their names, family names too in some cases. Most of them have a poor tale to tell of their life. Maybe Gondor can rectify what has happened here?"

"What the Girl said to me when I first saw their Plight indicated that they had been in the south. Intriguingly, they also suggested that they had been used and exploited as slaves. This may seem a strange question to ask, but is this commonplace?"

"I am aware that the remnant of the Fief-Dom that was Lebennin up until say fifteen years ago used put slaves to work as common-practice. However, when this was highlighted to my Father, he used what little power he had in Lebennin to stop this. But nothing, to my knowledge has commenced after that. But then Slavery has been illegal in Gondor, and most of the disputed lands for nigh on fifty years. Slavery in Gondor would be well hidden, but it may still be floating there. But Children, that would suggest a much larger operation, linked to the Haradrim freedom fighters possibly."

"Quite possibly. We must discuss the matter further at a later date. I must let you finish Bandaging Alumon whilst I retire, for otherwise we will not be able to break camp tomorrow on account of your tired grumpy ex-ranger!"

"Farewell Faramir, Eru knows we can't let you get even the slightest amount of sleep deprivation"

The next morning; if you can call before the sun rises the Morning; Faramir lay quietly, unable to nod back off. Thoughts of the Child were running through his mind. Faramir had seen his fair share of Horrors in his time; but clearly not at the age that Alumon had witnessed these. Faramir realised that if by some sheer chance it were Elfwine; that to send a message home would be to give the Haradrim another chance. It would be better to keep secret. Mulling over the events of the Previous night a name sprang to Faramirs mind; "Galeth" Commander of the West South Forces nears the Borders? That Galeth, son of Turdir, the cousin of Eomer's Grandfather? The only other in-line to the throne of Rohan? Oh bloody hell…


End file.
